


Finding Home Chapter 1

by Starsofwinter



Series: Finding Home [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:26:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsofwinter/pseuds/Starsofwinter
Summary: Garak and Bashir have lunch, Julian asks for a suit and Garak insists on taking new measurements.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Finding Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951060
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Finding Home Chapter 1

Garak sat in the replimat, observing the usual hustle and bustle of the station with a wary eye. He glanced, occasionally, at the clock on the wall opposite him. Where was that doctor? Surely no medical emergency outweighed the importance of their weekly lunch meeting, he mused to himself. He picked at his food halfheartedly, eating having lost all it’s enjoyment without the conversation he so looked forward to, indeed, it definitely wasn’t the food that made him keep these weekly appointments. _Ah, finally._ He thought, seeing the familiar blue of the doctor’s uniform appear around the corner, his face spread into a grin at the sight of Garak, a grin he returned with narrowed eyes and a slight scowl “ah, there you are, I was beginning to think an emergency surgery would surely steal away our entire lunch”  
“Not at all, actually, I think you’ll find the reason I was late quite fascinating” Doctor Bashir’s grin had slipped into a smirk, Garak was indeed, already interested to learn what had kept the young doctor, who’d moved to the replicator to grab his usual Tarkalean tea, and -dear god- a sandwich. Bashir sat down and met his eyes, nearly allowing Garak to forget the abomination he’d just placed before him, that is, until he took a bite, “doctor, I promise to forgive this and all future tardiness if you swear not to eat that thing in front of me” Bashir made no small show of rolling his eyes, “really, Garak, we talked about this, sandwiches are normal, just because they don’t exist on Cardassia-”  
“Ah, that’s because we on Cardassia apply a certain sense of sanity to our food preparation, rather than bastardizing as many ingredients as possible and shoving them in between two slices of, yet another, ingredient” Garak pushed his own tray away, shaking his head at the sheer ludicrousness of it all, humans were so bizarre “well, you’ll have to learn to get over your aversion to them, I like sandwiches, and I refuse to give them up just because _you_ find them ridiculous” Bashir said, defiantly taking a large bite of his meal, part of a -what was it?- _tomato_ nearly slipping out of the whole thing before he skillfully caught it in his mouth. Sandwiches, entirely too messy, Garak shook his head, but didn’t say another word, “now, do you want to hear why I was late or not?” Bashir asked, sipping his tea, his accursed sandwich set aside for the moment, “I’m all ears, doctor” Garak replied, his young companion grinned, again, pulling out a data rod and handing it across the table “I was getting this” he said, rather excitedly,  
“a new book, I presume?” Garak asked, turning the rod over in his hands, “yes, a particular favorite, rather popular in the 21st century, though it’s fallen out of popularity since then”  
“How fascinating, what’s the title”  
“It’s called ‘The Giver’ I’m really quite interested to see what you think of it” a very earthly title, The Giver, no doubt another overly sentimental human story, he wondered whether it would be nearly as interesting as some of Shakespeare’s pieces had proved to be, “I’ll be sure to get started on it right away, thank you doctor. I’m afraid I don’t have any new Cardassian pieces for you at this time” Bashir seemed pleased, nonetheless, and they began to discuss the last book Garak had lent him, slipping into their usual lunchtime rhythm of banter and debate. Garak almost didn’t notice when it was time for him to return to his shop, and loathed getting up from their table and saying his goodbye to the dear doctor, “oh, uh, Garak,” the doctor said, grabbing his arm, than letting go abruptly, “before you go, Keiko and Miles are having some sort of dinner party, apparently her parents are visiting and it’s a rather formal occasion, only Keiko finds dress uniforms rather...stiff for social occasions, and I’ve nothing else to wear-” Garak raised a ridged eyebrow, mentally praising Mrs. O’Brien for good fashion sense “my dear doctor, I’d be happy to help you find something more amiable, when is this dinner?” Bashir looked immensely relieved, “next week, and thank you” Garak had to suppress a chuckle, “stop by my shop tonight, I’m sure we’ll have more than enough time to find something suitable before then, and no need to thank me doctor” Garak added on his way out of the replimat “why, this is the work of a simple tailor, after all” This got another one of Bashir’s wide grins, one that Garak allowed himself to hold onto as he made the walk across the promenade and back to his shop. 

\------- 

Garak had just finished helping some rather spirited Klingons near the end of his work day when at last, Doctor Bashir arrived for his fitting. A knock at the door and there he was, leaning in the doorway as if waiting to be invited in, his hands clutching each other nervously, long fingers twisting and pinching at the loose skin on his knuckles with a restless energy. Garak smiled, letting a small smirk hide the warmth he felt at seeing him standing there, “good evening, doctor, I trust you’re doing well?” Doctor Bashir finally approached the counter, entering the shop quickly, ”yes, hello Garak, shall we get started then?” Garak nodded graciously, “what precisely, are you looking for, doctor? Perhaps Andosian design? I have some silks here I think would be most becoming” Garak began to pull out several bolts of fabric of different colors-creams, teals, purples-”Garak, you really don’t have to make something entirely new, I thought I’d just.. Buy something” the poor man looked entirely overwhelmed, he started to approach one of the suits on display “like this, maybe?” Garak shook his head “listen, doctor, I’m happy to provide something for you, but I simply insist on creating it. I won’t have you going to such a special occasion in something that wasn’t designed especially for your figure,” Doctor Bashir flushed slightly “it’s unbecoming of a tailor, and of a friend.” Garak strode forward to take him by the arm, pulling him into the center of the shop, and began to take measurements with his tricorder. “I-uh, I thought you already had my measurements?” Bashir asked nervously, Garak got close to him, measuring his shoulders, and around his waist “well, it has been some time, doctor, one can never be too careful, and you said it was such a special occasion, these measurements must be as accurate as possible” Garak could hear Bashir’s carefully maintained breathing, just a little too shallow. As he measured along his inseam, the breathing stopped for just a moment. Garak could barely contain a small smirk, he wasn’t even touching the man. Besides, they were just measurements, the human sense of propriety was entirely ridiculous. In a private environment Garak may have understood the doctor's nerves, but this was a professional establishment. Perhaps humans with their soft skin and external reproductive organs were just far too vulnerable to stimulus. How do any of them get anything done? Garak mused, now measuring along Bashir's arms.  
“Well, I think that’s everything I need, thank you doctor, I’ll come up with a design and let you know when it’s ready, hmm?” Garak said, placing the tricorder back on his counter and taking a well controlled breath himself “yes, thank you very much, Garak” Doctor Bashir said, turning to face Garak as he left. What was it in the young doctor’s eyes then? Garak wondered, he reminded him very much of a lost youth Garak had once known on Cardassia, a kind of faraway look in his eyes, a longing for something he didn’t know how to get to. One moment, and it was gone, replaced with a boyish smile, thanking Garak once again for his services. “Goodnight, my dear doctor” Garak whispered to himself after waving Bashir away. That look still in the back of his mind, like a word he knew but couldn’t remember how to pronounce, familiar, but trapped in place it couldn’t exist yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first time really writing fanfiction, so I know it's a little rough, sorry.


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